Roger Towman and the 2nd Precinct:The Muddy Murder
by JayBird1
Summary: Sherlock Holmes in the 90s. Yeah, It's kind of like that!


Wednesday, September 26th, 1993  
  
As you go through the 2nd precinct, you notice many things. This morning was similar. It had the same schools, the same stores, and the same people. There was just one thing different. I found that out at 1450 Cellvard Avenue. It was at this exact house where I found a very odd man. He was in his thirties, had brown hair, and was slightly tall. The odd thing about him was that he was dead. The name of this person was Gary Porter, and by the looks of it he was murdered the night before. As I checked the body, I saw that the man had two bullet holes in the chest.  
  
"So, what do you think?" Officer Magman asked. I could've been sure that that was his name. It surely was the name on his uniform.  
  
"He's been shot, of course," I answered back to him.  
  
I then turned back to the body. One weird thing, other than the man being dead, was the way that the room appeared to my eyes. A murder took place here, but yet the room was perfectly clean. That is true, except for where the body was laying.  
  
"How strange is that?" I asked to that same officer.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Look for yourself." He then saw the same thing that I did, and questioned the same things that flew into his mind. After that, I decided that I better get something to eat. So, I told the officer that I was going to leave, and then I left out the door.  
  
As I drove down the road, I thought of who the suspect could be. There were his neighbors, his employees, and his enemies. I knew for sure that some of his employees and some of his neighbors could have been some of his enemies.  
  
I forgot to mention his job. Gary Porter was the manager of a restaurant called Dinner is Served. It's a wonderful restaurant, but it does have its ups and downs.  
  
Hello, my name is Roger Towman. I'm a detective for the city of Burdensville. I work all around the city, but most of my work is carried out in the 2nd precinct.  
  
After I ate my lunch, I left into my nice, blue Mercedes, my favorite car around. I then drove off.  
  
I decided to go back to the scene of the crime. That's not a bad place to go to when a crime takes place.  
  
"Back already?" another person asked me. It was Binston. He's another detective in this precinct, and he's my best friend.  
  
"I'm just taking another look around," I said back over to him.  
  
"There's not much to take a look at. I suggest that you just take a quick look and leave."  
  
"Okay. Well, it doesn't look like there's much evidence to take a look at."  
  
"I know. It would be a waste of time to stay here much longer." Then, something came into my head.  
  
"Binston, what family did he have?"  
  
"I checked through the records and saw that he didn't have any family, except for his parents. They died a few years back. He didn't keep in touch with his parents that much anyway."  
  
"Okay, thanks." I then left the house. I went into my car and drove off. In twenty minutes I was in my driveway. I was in my home.  
  
I was always lonely when I walked in. I flipped on the light switch to an empty house. I had no family. Nobody to talk to when I opened the door. I was just too busy for a family of my own.  
  
Suddenly, the phone rang. I picked up the phone, hoping to hear something good, to hear Chief Narold speaking to me.  
  
"Hey Roger, what did you see from that case today?"  
  
"Nothing much. It was just so weird that the place was entirely clean, except for the body itself."  
  
"Okay. I expect you in my office by 9:00 a.m. tomorrow."  
  
"Okay chief!"  
  
The phone made a clicking sound after that. I assumed he hung up. I knew he meant business tomorrow. I decided that I better eat dinner and go to bed.  
  
It was about 8:30 p.m. when I finished dinner. I stayed up for a little while, and then I went into my room to end up falling asleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thursday, September 27th, 1993  
  
Thursday began as every other day. Me waking up, me getting a shower, me going to work, me leaving work, and me going to bed. That's how my miserable life was. Thank God for weekends!  
  
After I got out of the shower, I stared up at my clock. The time read 8:15 a.m.  
  
"I better get going," I said to myself.  
  
I got dressed, ate a quick breakfast, and I was on my way. I was going at speeds of 55 M.P.H. just trying to get there on time. I knew that the speed limit was 35, but I had to get to work on time. If I didn't, I would be in big trouble with Chief Narold!  
  
It was 8:55 a.m. when I made my way into Burdensville Police Station. I was lucky enough to even be in there. By the way I was driving, I should've ended up in Burdensville City Jail!  
  
I walked up the steps in the station, and opened the door into the chief's office.  
  
"Hello Roger. Why don't you sit down?"  
  
I took a seat. He sounded like he was in a good mood today. Boy, was I wrong!  
  
"Who do you think you are? You're a complete idiot! Do you think this is a big joke?"  
  
  
  
"You sure do act like it! If you don't satisfy me with a good report in the next week, then you'll be fired! You got that?"  
  
"Of course," I said in a frightened voice. "I won't let you down."  
  
"You better not, Towman. Now, get out of my office before I do something that I'm going to regret!"  
  
I left the office. You bet your life I left! He was going crazy. It was like he mistakenly drank sour milk. I decided the best thing for me to do would to go back to 1450 Cellvard Avenue, and try to find at least one piece of evidence. So, as usual, I got into my car and drove off.  
  
1450 Cellvard Avenue was a nice place. That's what my views were of the house when I went into the driveway. I got out of my car to enter a place of murder.  
  
"Why did he die?" I asked myself.  
  
When I entered, there were around five people there. All of them were searching for a lead in this case. I decided to look where everyone else was not, the hall.  
  
I walked down the dark, narrow hall of the house. I was searching every spot possible. I felt hopeless in finding anything.  
  
Suddenly, I saw some spots on the carpet in the hall. I took a closer look. The spots then turned into shoe prints from mud. My heart started pounding more and more in excitement. I followed the prints to one of the windows in one of the rooms, at the end of the hall.  
  
"My prayers have been answered!" I cried.  
  
Binston just came into the house. As I saw him enter, I ran over to him in a frantic manner.  
  
"Binston! Binston!" I yelled. "Look what I've discovered in the hall."  
  
"What's all the excitement about?"  
  
"Just come here real quick. I've found something quite astonishing. It's one of our first leads into the case."  
  
I grabbed his arm, and pulled him into the hall. I then turned on the light, so he would see the evidence a little better. As we were walking, his jaw began to drop in shock.  
  
"To tell you something else, I think this can explain why the room was clean. That is because he murdered him from the hall by using a gun to fire at him."  
  
"Amazing! We can now get somewhere in this case," he said.  
  
"I think that I know that by now.  
  
"Well, look at those prints. If only we can find out who wore those shoes."  
  
"Yes. It looks like he came from that window." I pointed over to the direction where the prints were leading to a window, in one of the rooms. I looked out of the window, and I saw a garden.  
  
"That's how he got the mud on his shoes!" Binston cried.  
  
"It sure does look like it."  
  
"Let us go!" Binston stated.  
  
"Go to where?"  
  
"We'll go to Dinner is Served."  
  
"Okay. I think we should question the employees there. Can we get some lunch too?  
  
"Sure. Now, let's get going!"  
  
We stumbled into our separate cars and drove off to our destination, Dinner is Served. When we got to the restaurant, there were about twenty vehicles parked about the building. That was because it was lunch, and at that time this place gets crowded. I began to talk to Binston.  
  
"So, what shall we do first?"  
  
"First, we eat lunch."  
  
"What do we do after that?"  
  
"We'll question the employees about Gary Porter."  
  
As we entered, my hypothesis became correct. The place was crowded! Around 40-50 people were inside. They were all eating lunch, not thinking that one of the employees, in this building, could've been a murderer.  
  
"Now, what would you guys like to have today?" the waitress asked in a fine manner.  
  
I asked for two cheeseburgers with a coke, while Binston asked for a hot dog with a glass of water. We waited for about twenty minutes for our food to come. In between that time, we talked about the murderer.  
  
"So, do you think the murderer is one of the people working here?"  
  
"It could be. We'll just have to wait and see. There are about thirty employees that work here. That means thirty employees to question today."  
  
"You're right about that!"  
  
We talked a bit more after that, but when our food came we didn't talk at all! Binston and I were just eating after that. Him eating his hot dog, and I eating my two cheeseburgers. We were just eagerly waiting until we were done with our meals. When we were finished, we waited for the waitress to come back to our table. Then, we began to talk to her.  
  
"Excuse me miss," I said. "We are from the Burdensville Police Department. May we question the employees that work here?  
  
"I'm sorry. We are too busy right now. Could you wait until we close?"  
  
"What time does this place close?"  
  
"9:00 p.m. I'm afraid you have a long wait until then."  
  
"Okay. That would be fine. Could you tell the manager to have all the employees to stay overtime?"  
  
"Well, I could do that, but we don't have a manager. I could talk to the assistant manager about it."  
  
"Okay, is he busy?"  
  
"No, sir. I don't believe so.  
  
"May we talk to him?"  
  
"I'm most certain that you could do that."  
  
"Okay, than. Thank you for your time."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
As we watched the waitress leave, we decided to question the assistant manager because he could be a prime suspect in this case. So, we walked through the restaurant to find the office of the assistant manager. When we reached the office, I opened the door.  
  
"Welcome," someone said in a calm voice. "How are you two doing?"  
  
"We're doing good," Binston answered. "Would you answer a few questions for us?"  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"We are investigating the murder of Gary Porter. He was the manager at this place. Now, will you be glad to answer, or do you wish us to leave?"  
  
"It's okay. You can stay. I'll answer any question that you may want to ask."  
  
"Okay. You knew Gary Porter, right?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
"Did you know him well?"  
  
"Yes, we were very good friends. It was sad to see him go like that. Who would dare want to murder a person like him."  
  
"That's what we're trying to figure out. Now-"  
  
"Thank you for your time, Mr.-?"  
  
"Leeman. Mr. Leeman."  
  
"Okay, thank you Mr. Leeman."  
  
Binston and I left after that. He was wondering why I wanted to leave.  
  
"I think we'll just be wasting our time if we ask him any more questions."  
  
"Fine, Roger. Whatever you say. Let's just hope you know what you're doing."  
  
We both left in our two separate vehicles and drove on the highway. Binston and I were now going to question Gary Porter's neighbors on Cellvard Avenue. How come we didn't do that before now?  
  
When we got there, we were both filled with confidence in finding out the murderer. When we left, we were both disappointed. We questioned most of the neighbors, but we didn't get many leads in the case.  
  
"Sure, I knew him. He lived next door to me. What do you think I am, stupid?"  
  
That's what one person told us. What good came out of that? Anyway, another person we met was Kyle Walker. He gave us a little bit more information.  
  
"I didn't get along with him too well. I remember one time; he stole my idea on something that was important to me. It was seven years ago. We were both in our twenties, and had our whole lives to pursue our goals and dreams. We both wanted to own restaurants. I had this great idea of a restaurant. It was to be called Dinner is Served. Now, Gary on the other hand, was always slacking off. He had no ideas. Well, I went on vacation for a month. When I came back, I saw a big sign next to a construction site. It read, "Coming Soon: Dinner is Served." It made me so furious. I would never forgive him for that. I haven't talked to him in three years, even though he is my neighbor. How did he die, anyway?"  
  
"He was shot in the chest twice," Binston answered.  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"Well, thank you for your time, goodbye."  
  
"Goodbye."  
  
So, I drove away. I went back into that chamber called home, ate dinner watched some television, and then went to sleep. Boy, was I glad that day was over!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Friday, September 28th, 1993  
  
I began my normal day by the normal way, but today wasn't a normal day. I was in a different mood today. It was because it was Friday! This was a stranger Friday, though still a great Friday.  
  
I was in a situation where either I solve a challenging case, or I lose my job. I didn't want to lose my job. So, I chose to try to solve the case. Even though it was a Friday, I still did the normal routine in the morning.  
  
I drove off to the police station that morning. Just as I suspected, Binston was there. He greeted me in a very delightful way. Maybe he was going to have a great day ahead of him, too. He was.  
  
"How are you today Roger?"  
  
"Good. What about you?"  
  
"I feel the same. This is going to be one heck of a day. I can just feel it!"  
  
"You're right about that."  
  
"Let's go try to find something at Cellvard Avenue."  
  
"That's just what I was thinking."  
  
"Cool, then let's go!"  
  
We ran out of the police station, got into our cars, and drove off in surplus speeds! It took us about 15 minutes to get to 1450 Cellvard Avenue, formerly Gary Porter's house. We both ran out of our cars and entered the house.  
  
"I think I've got it all figured out," Binston said.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"I think it was Kyle Walker. He had a grudge against him for many years. I think he is the murderer!"  
  
"I don't quite think so," I said. "I can give you much information about why Mr. Leeman is the murderer!"  
  
"You even said that it was a waste of time to question him anymore."  
  
"I know that I said that. That is because of several reasons. One, he has the same shoe size as the prints in the hall, two, he has the same shoe brand as the prints in the hall. I found that out from looking at the bottom of Mr. Leeman's shoe. As I took a good look, I saw a line pattern almost identical to the prints in the hall. And three, his shoes had some mud around the bottom of them."  
  
"How did you figure that out?"  
  
"As I said earlier, I took a good look at his shoe when he put his legs on his desk as he was sitting. It showed me everything that I needed to know. When I checked the shoes of everyone else, that we questioned, I found nothing suspicious. So, I concluded that it was Mr. Leeann who murdered Gary Porter."  
  
"Amazing!" I than knew that Benson was shocked from that. "Let's go arrest him now!"  
  
"Sure. You want to get some lunch first?"  
  
"Okay, where shall we go?"  
  
"To a nice place called Dinner is Served!"  
  
So, we entered our cars and drove down to Dinner is Served. When we got there, we rushed to the entrance in great excitement. Binston and I ordered our food a few minutes after we entered. When we were done eating, Binston and I rushed to the assistant manager's office. We then knocked on the door. Nobody answered. So, I opened the door, and ran around the room. Nobody was there. I then went back to the hallway.  
  
"Why isn't Mr. Leeman in?" I asked to one of the employees.  
  
"Oh, he's now manager because our former manager died."  
  
"Why didn't you just make him manager two days ago?"  
  
"We have this system of benefits for the family of an employee that dies. So, if someone died, another family member could take his or her place. It's supposed to help them in times of need. Since Gary Porter died, one of his family members could've become manager. Mr. Leeman mentioned that he didn't have much of a family. So, we made him manager."  
  
"Okay, thanks," Binston said. "Do you know where we can find the manager's office?"  
  
"Yes. It's just down the hall. You can't miss it!"  
  
We then started walking to the end of the hall, where we saw a sign that read, "Manager's Office." As we knocked, Mr. Leeman opened the door.  
  
"May I help you two-?"  
  
Before he could finish with his question, Binston put the handcuffs on him. We had just arrested the murderer of Gary Porter.  
  
Later, the police came and took Mr. Leeman into their car and into prison. The case was complete!  
  
When Mr. Leeman was tried for murder, he plead guilty and was sentenced to thirty years in prison.  
  
As for me, I am still awaiting another case to solve. I don't know what will come at me next, but I'll be ready. That's because I'm Roger Towman! 


End file.
